Mysteries Solved and a Couple Reunited
by sableebony
Summary: Carson revives an old passion for cooking, Anna discovers the secret behind Bates' ticket to London, and Matthew makes an unexpected appearance more than a year after his supposed death. The story follows the last episode of Season 4. Its sequel is titled "A Ticket to Happiness".


**Chapter 1**

Mrs. Patmore moaned and rolled onto her side. Her sunburnt back felt like molten lava from a newly erupted volcano.

"Stupid darn beach," she muttered, "stupid darn sunburn, and stupid darn hard mattress!"

Daisy popped her head in the doorway.

"Mrs. Patmore . . . I shouldn't bother you, I know, but someone's got to make the plum tart for desert and I can't."

"For heaven's sake why not, Daisy? You've still got two hands, haven't you?"

"But I'm already making the poached eggs and cheese-spinach cannoli squares and the braised pigeon stew with roasted plum-sauce escargot, and I _can't_ make the tart too. I just don't have time. And Ivy's gone now."

But Mrs. Patmore was asleep. She had drifted off at the cheese-spinach part.

Daisy sighed and hurried back to the kitchen. To her surprise, Carson was standing by the oven, wearing a neat white apron with a pink lace border and clutching a baking tray.

Daisy stopped in her tracks.

"Mr-Mr Carson! What are you doing here?"

"You are short of a kitchen maid, no?

"Well, um, yes, I suppose . . . But I didn't think _you . . ._"

"Did you think me unable to prepare a repast? You may not know it, but in my . . . past . . . I was quite the accomplished chef."

"You were?" Said Daisy, unable to suppress a giggle.

"Indeed. Now, I will prepare the plum tart while you carry on with the braised pigeon."

Thomas, lurking in the door, smirked.

This would make some story!

**Chapter 2**

Mary was becoming tired of Blake and Gillingham. They were so predictable. Sometimes she envied Sybil's courage for running off with a chauffeur. Mary always looked at chauffeurs in a new light now, but of course she herself could not elope with one. It would be too risky for Downton.

Above Mary loomed the big sign of the Abbey Nunnery. She passed under it and approached the imposing wooden door. It was worn with time and needed a good painting.

Mary took a deep breath, and entered. A strong musty smell of ripe furniture greeted her nose and a small, worried looking nun hurried over to her.

"My dear. You must be Mrs. Crawley. Welcome to the Abbey Nunnery."

The woman's hard voice made the words seemed almost mocking.

"Thank you," said Mary.

"I hear that you are considering becoming a nun?"

"That is correct. I've decided that nobody can ever replace Matthew, and if I'm a nun no one will try to. Besides, Gillingham and Blake are all very well, but they're rather boring. And no one new has popped up lately."

"I hope that is not your only reason, my dear. You see, nuns must have a deep connection with God."

"Ah. Must we pray much?"

"Yes, five times a day, at 2 and 6 in the morning, noon, and 4 and 11 in the evening."

Mary's eye's widened.

"That much?"

"I'm afraid so, dear. But we do it for the love of our religion."

Mary opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it once again.

"I'm afraid I've made a mistake. Good-day," she said, and hurried out the door.

The nun chuckled to herself, then picked up the phone.

"Brother John? Please send Brother Matthew here at once. I think it's time to tell him the truth."

**Chapter 3**

"I still wish you'd have let me empty the pockets of that coat, Anna," said Bates.

They were sitting in the small garden of their cottage, enjoying their day off.

Anna had almost forgotten about the coat.

"Why do you care so much, Mr. Bates?" She asked.

"No reason, really."

"You've told me at least seven times how much you wish I'd let you check the pockets, but what's done's done. And I did buy you an ice cream."

"True," admitted Bates, with a small smile, "But still."

A shadow passed over the garden.

"You're not telling me something, are you," said Anna softly, "I know what was in the pocket."

Bates did not looked surprised, only disheartened.

"Anna, you musn't think -"

"Of course not. I know you'd never -"

"Oh, I would -"

"What?"

"I'm afraid so. I picked up the habit in prison."

"_What?_ M-m-murder? A habit?"

"What?"

"Mr. Bates, you - are you - you're saying that you - murdered - that -"

"Anna? I was talking about lint."

"Lint?"

"In my pocket. I didn't want you to think I usually have lint in my pocket. I usually clean it out, but I'm afraid in prison I picked up a nasty habit of leaving it in."

"That's all?"

"_Yes,_ Anna, that's all. What did you think?"

Anna smiled, but her eyes shone with puzzlement. _Mr. Bates still isn't telling me something,_ she thought, _he never even mentioned the ticket._

**Chapter 4**

Sister Francesca and Brother John whispered urgently in the courtyard of the nunnery. A man wearing long robes stood quietly behind them clasping his hands and looking down at his sandaled feet.

Brother John motioned to him, and the man looked up, his bright blue eyes glinting in the sunlight.

"Brother Matthew, Sister Francesca and I have some news for you."

"Yes, Brother?"

"When we found you, after the car accident, you were told that your wife, Lady Mary Crawley, had perished after childbirth with the same condition that was fatal to her sister."

The man, Matthew, nodded, his eyes sad.

"She didn't."

"Wh-what?" Gasped Matthew.

"She is alive, but she is not worthy of you."

"What do you mean? You lied to me? Let me go to her!" Matthew made to rush out of the nunnery, but Brother John clutched his arm.

"Listen, Brother. You must not think poorly of us."

"But- but -what -"

"Listen. We have had, for a long time, a hunch that Lady Mary is not the person she seems to be. We sent some . . . people . . . to give her the idea that she might become a nun. She, of course, thought it was her own. She visited Sister Francesca yesterday and . . . Well, we found out much about her."

Sister Francesca took over.

"She said that no-one could ever replace you, Matthew, yet she has been seeing two gentlemen even so soon after your supposed death."

"My- my _death_? I -"

"Hush, brother. Yes, she thought you dead. It was for your own good, so hush. We knew you to be a good man long before you knew of us. When you were in that convenient car crash, we let everyone believe you had died. Mary mourned for half the year, but, according to our informants, she soon met two _charming_ young gentlemen. When she came to the nunnery, we thought she may be a good person after all, suitable for a man like you, but she is selfish. She could not bear the thought of merely waking to pray."

Brother John added, "We tell you this so that you know the truth, but also so that you know Lady Crawley for whom she really is."

Matthew stood motionless, shocked.

He could only think one thing: _Mary is alive!_

**Chapter 5**

Jimmy stumbled into the dining room. The family looked up at him in surprise, and Carson glared at him, his bushy eyebrows meeting in the centre of his forehead.

"To what do we owe this pleasure?" Asked the Dowager Countess dryly.

"I - I'm sorry, m'Lady. It's just that - that -" Stammered Jimmy.

"Speak up, boy!"

"There's a man at the door. It's M-m-mr. C-crawley! Back from the dead, I swear!"

A silence fell over the table. Mary slowly stood up, saying, "I'm sure you're wrong, James. But let me see him."

**Chapter 6**

Downton Abbey had never been happier. The reunion of Mary and Matthew was springtime in a place that had been desolated in winter. No one was without a smile; even Thomas wore a slight smirk.

Matthew and Mary were walking in the garden.

"I still can't believe it," said Mary, "You thought _I _was dead? How did that happen?'

"I was staying in the Abbey Monastery. They took me there after the accident. I don't know why, but they have something against you. Some grudge. They wanted me separated from you. They arranged for you to visit the nunnery to prove your cruel heart, and then told me the truth about you, and what a wicked person you are."

Mary sniffed, then replied, "It's amazing. How could they do such a thing? I might have an idea about the grudge against me, though. A few years ago, just before we were married, the nunnery and monastery asked for a large sum of money. They wanted to refurnish the buildings, I think. I'm not sure why, but they asked _me_ for the money. Maybe they thought I'd be more generous. Naturally, I refused. I suppose they've kept it against me all these years. Well, I'm certainly not giving them any money _now_!"

"They thought after what they told me that I'd be grateful. I couldn't believe their cruelty. Of course I came here straight away." Matthew told her.

Mary and Matthew sat down on the bench that overlooked the grand Downton Abbey. They had found each other again.

"George has found his father," whispered Mary.

**Chapter 7**

Carson was busy as both the butler and the new kitchen maid. Luckily, Mrs. Patmore was back to her normal self - and so was her sharp tongue.

Carson rather liked cooking, although he didn't admit it to any of the staff. In his diary, he wrote about the day:

_May 12th, 1927_

_Made a apple tart with fudge sauce. Envious of the family. Mrs. Patmore back to normal. Oh darn. Sort of liked cooking. Back to being butler! _

_C._

**Chapter 8**

Anna realized that the only way to get the truth out of Mr. Bates was to confront him. She cornered him in the boot room.

"Mr. Bates . . ." She started.

"Yes, Anna? Is something bothering you?" Asked Bates concernedly.

"Well, yes, actually. It's about the coat pocket."

"The linen?" Said Bates with a laugh.

"No. The - the ticket. The one to London."

Bates looked truly baffled.

"I don't know where it is now - for all we know it burned to ashes - but I did see it. It was on the day he - he died. Greene."

Bates' eyes narrowed.

"Anna, I'm not lying to you: I never had a ticket to London. I haven't been since my mother's funeral."

Anna looked into his eyes, and saw that he was telling the truth.

"Then, why was it there? In your pocket?"

"I don't know. It -"

Bates felt a tingling sensation on his neck. Someone was watching him. Turning, he saw a glimpse of a footman's livery and a dash of dark brown hair disappearing around the corner. Thomas.

Realization dawned on him.

"It's Thomas."

"What?" Asked Anna, confused.

"It's him. He did it. He put the ticket in my pocket to make me look guilty. I'm sure of it."

Anna gasped.

"But how did he get the ticket?"

"He found it, maybe. Or maybe _he_ went to London on that day. It doesn't matter. What matters is -"

"That it wasn't your ticket," finished Anna, with a relieved smile.

But Bates looked angry. _He's going to pay for this_, he thought.


End file.
